


Featherlike

by eleveneitherway



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Endgame, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Happy Ending, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Reunions, Steggy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25092358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleveneitherway/pseuds/eleveneitherway
Summary: An interpretation of Steve and Peggy's reunion in Avengers Endgame just because I can't get enough of 'em
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Featherlike

Peggy Carter never expected to see the love of her life again, but all of a sudden, there he was one evening, standing at her front door. He had aged slightly from when she last saw him, she couldn’t believe her eyes at first, thinking it was the alcohol in her system that was creating the illusion. The slight buzz she had going on seemed to intensify ten fold to see him in the flesh again and with that years of pain and heartache seemed to disappear for a split second. But she was a rational person, yes, she was rational. It couldn’t be Steve, Steve was dead. Steven Grant Rogers, was dead. But somehow, for some reason, there he was, in front of her very eyes, clad in a button up shirt that was far too tight for him, and form fitting trousers. There were tears welling up in his eyes. She stood there for a moment, seemingly frozen, still unable to fathom the fact that Steve Rogers was alive, he was alive and he was standing right in front of her. She broke out of her daze and managed to croak out. 

“Steve?” her voice merely a whisper. 

Steve opened his mouth, but he stopped himself, and nodded. 

“Bloody hell, come in, you must be freezing out there.” She stepped aside for him to come in.

Steve smiled slightly at the irony of her statement and stepped into her home. 

She led him into her sitting room, where two cushy armchairs stood facing the fireplace, a glass of whisky on the small table next to it. She gestured for him to sit down, he shook his head. Peggy watched as he strode across the room, to the record player in the corner of the room, he bent down and pulled a record out from the neat pile she kept on a shelf below. She inched forward, curious. Steve pulled the vinyl out gingerly from its casing and placed it on the record player. His hands shook as he brought the needle down, the player crackled for a moment, before the trumpets sounded from the horn. He had picked Harry James.

“I promised you a dance, the questions can wait.” Steve turned to face Peggy, a gentle smile on his face. He held his hand out. 

She took it willingly, there were some new calluses on his hand, but her hand still fit perfectly into his, she was finally touching him, she had been longing to do so for ages. 

Steve pulled her in closer, their noses brushed, Peggy raised her free hand up to his face and stroked down his jawline, the short stubble pricking her ever so slightly with every move. Steve always had his face clean shaven, the stubble was something new. Peggy let out a watery laugh, she leaned into his chest, and felt his cheek rest her forehead.

Steve and Peggy swayed to the music, their eyes fluttered close as tears welled up in their eyes again. They stayed locked in each other’s embrace for a while, Peggy’s arm snaked its way up Steve’s back. They held each other as tightly as they could, as if one of them could disappear, or turn to dust at any time, 

Peggy pulled her head out slightly, Steve opened his eyes and glanced down at her, a tear rolled down each of their cheeks, his lips curled up into a slight smile, They both leaned in toward one another, and Steve’s lips enveloped her own, Peggy closed her eyes and let the familiarity wash over her. Nobody kissed like Steve Rogers did, he was gentle, yet fierce and full of passion, there was a certain desperation to his movements. But his lips were still soft, like velvet. She felt her worries wash away, with each gentle tug on her top lip. Steve came back for her, Steve was here, Steve was… alive. 

They danced for a little longer, revelling in each other’s embrace, just as Steve had said, the questions could wait. All that mattered to Peggy was that he was with her right now, holding her flush against his chest, swaying gently to the music. 

Every now and then, Steve would press a featherlike kiss to her forehead, she leaned into his touch, and reciprocated with peppering kisses to his cheeks. They danced way into the night, long after the record had finished and all there was was a mere crackle. But that didn’t matter, as long as they had each other. Peggy didn’t care in that moment how Steve found his way back to her. All that mattered to her at the moment was that he was there, in front of her, just like nothing had happened at all. Steve Rogers, her darling Steve was alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I am very, very drunk right now, and sober me would probably thump me for posting this now but I’ve experienced very strong emotions recently and I really needed to write something so here it is (finally)... My interpretation of how Peggy felt when Steve came back. (Mind you, this might be me projecting because I did experience my first break up not long ago. Good god this is really TMI anyway here’s Steve and Peggy because I love these two so god damn much. And yes I am posting this without getting a second opinion or anything but yeah. (Mind you, I've had Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade playing on repeat for a good hour and a half as well)


End file.
